From the Beginning
by Sou7h
Summary: A saviour who fell to darkness. A Sith who walked back into the light. But who was Revan the man and how did he come to be? Pre-kotor, AU, Revan/Bastila/Malak love triangle. Will include Mandalorian Wars and characters from both games.
1. A Bitter Taste

**Disclaimer: I don't own KOTOR. Seriously.**

**Author's Note: Well there's a lot of these, but I just thought I'd put this one out there too =). I haven't forgotten about A Voice Heard, I'm working on a new chapter up for that. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy.**

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1. A Bitter Taste

Revan took careful, measured steps as he circled his opponent, trying to find a way in. A quick strike might do the trick if he moved fast enough. As if sensing his strategy, she repositioned her lightsaber. Revan's lips tightened in a mirthless grin. A predator's grin. He would enjoy this fight.

Two more steps. One. Zero. He pushed off with both feet, covering the distance between them in less than a second. But his opponent was quick; the shimmering blade was already there to block him.

There was a hiss and a crackle as their lightsabers met again and again. Dodging a clumsy kick, Revan flipped high in the air, over his opponent's head. He parried the follow-up blow before landing a few metres away.

It was a dangerous dance. A dance of offense and defence. A dance of parries and blows. A dance of glowing blades in darkness.

Revan sipped the night air through his lips. It tasted sweet. His opponent flourished her double-bladed lightsaber, twirling it around her body and within an inch of her face. Revan didn't flinch. Instead, he beckoned his opponent to him and sank into a low stance.

She obliged, charging with one blade high and the other low. The higher one swept in an arc for his head. He blocked the blow easily before sidestepping the lower blade that came at his foot. He released a flurry of relentless counterattacks that forced her into a defensive position. Revan kept pressing, hoping to corner her.

She crouched to spring but Revan saw it coming. He swung his saber in a swift, downward chop that she was forced to deflect away. Her resistance was gradually wearing thin. Finally, his patience was rewarded with what he had been waiting for all this time: a huge gap in her defence. Foolishly eager, he took it without thinking.

By the time he realized it was a trap, it was too late. She spun out of the way, her foot catching him in the middle of the back. Revan sprawled to the stone floor. He managed to turn on his back just in time to prevent his own bisection. Her attacks were just as furious as his had been; she never gave him a chance to get back on his feet. Sweat dripped down his face as he barely stopped a strike intended to make him sterile. Her saber gouged into the rock.

"Bastila!" A voice called from the shadows.

The voice made her hesitate and that second of hesitation was enough.

Revan pushed out with the Force, blasting her away from him. He got to his feet just as Bastila lithely landed on hers.

"Hey, we agreed on no Force powers!" She shouted indignantly.

Revan laughed. "Oops. Guess I forgot. It would have been a tie anyway."

"I had you, Revan. Admit it!"

"Never."

"If you guys had told me you were having a midnight sparring match, I would have joined you." Malak stepped into the moonlight as they both thumbed their lightsabers on.

"This was just a little contest between Bast and me," Revan grinned. "Loser has to buy the caf. But I have to say, you picked the right time to come."

"Thanks a lot!" Bastila thumped Malak playfully on the chest.

Malak's eyebrow went up as he eyed their lightsabers. "A caf duel with real lightsabers and no melee shields? That's a little dangerous, don't you think?"

Now it was Bastila's turn to grin. "I would have left him in one piece. After I toyed with him a little bit."

Revan winced. "If you ask me, she was a little overzealous going for my ... treasure chest. I'm not sure how much kolto that would need."

"Not as much as your bruised ego, I'm sure." Malak traced a scorch mark in the stone floor with his boot. It was one of many. "Won't the Masters be mad when they find out you used the council chamber as a duelling ring?"

"Not as mad as they'll be when they see what we did to the training room. Not that they have to know about that either."

"The training room computer was your fault," Bastila said.

"Hey, I tried to fix it."

"We should go to bed," Malak suggested, his eyes on Bastila. His arm wrapped around her slim shoulders.

Of course. It was so easy to be with her, Revan had forgotten that they weren't together.

"You coming, Revan?"

"Not yet," he answered, trying to ignore the intentions in his friends' eyes.

The two walked away, hand in hand. Revan wished that he could be Malak, if only for a day. No, even an hour would be enough. He watched Bastila's retreating back for as long as he could until it disappeared beyond the circle of moonlight that left him alone.

He stood still for a moment before thumbing his lightsaber back on. Twisting through the movements of his form, he concentrated on perfecting his technique. If he won, Bastila would demand a rematch. Then they would duel more often and – Revan hoped – alone.

The young Jedi pushed himself to his limits. It was all about focus. _Don't think about what they're doing right now_, he told himself, but he couldn't stop wondering. His own imagination made Revan sick. He collapsed, completely exhausted and out of breath. The night air tasted bitter on his lips.

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**Author's Note: I tried to do some research on for this game, but it came back with a bunch of stuff that confused me so I'll just stick with what I know. If anyone could please remind me at exactly what point you meet Visas in Kotor 2, that would be greatly appreciated.**

**Apparently, Malak's real name is Alek Squinquargesimus. Who knew?**


	2. Punishment

**Disclaimer:** I don't own KotoR, however much I'd love to.

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2. Punishment

"Revan, wake up!"

The Jedi padawan blinked. Sunlight stabbed at his eyes and pierced his brain. He turned to see Malak watching over him anxiously.

"Are you okay? How late did you stay up last night? Or did Bastila really trounce you that badly?"

Revan groaned. He didn't even remember crawling back to bed. "I'm alright. What time is it?"

"Late. Very late. Master Vrook expected us about fifteen minutes ago."

"Damn," Revan sighed. Vrook would never let him hear the end of it. The young Jedi would gladly skip, but Malak would never let him. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to let Malak face the old windbag alone.

Malak stared. "I can give you a few minutes in the fresher if you need them."

"Thanks." Revan stumbled inside. The door closed behind him. Peering into the mirror, Revan could see why Malak had stared; he was a real mess. His hair, longer than most padawans', stuck up in odd places at odd angles. Bloodshot, darkly-ringed eyes stared back at him. After a quick wash and change out of his sweaty, stinky robes, Revan felt presentable enough. He gave up trying to make his hair behave. Vrook wouldn't care less if the Chancellor's hairdresser herself had styled his hair personally.

After ten minutes in the fresher, the two padawans made their way to the training room where Vrook had already started his lesson.

Revan held back a wince. The damage hadn't looked that bad in the dark.

Scorch marks criss-crossed the floor and the walls like a failed attempt at abstract art. A bench was split cleanly in two. Worst of all was the training computer: the occasional spark or puff of smoke burst from its ruined panel. An entire section hung dejectedly from a thin strip of wire. A twisted piece of metal was jammed into one of the datapad receptacles, as though someone had tried to force it in as a vague attempt to disguise the damage. Which Revan had.

"I see you two have finally decided to join us," the old Master remarked dryly.

"My deepest apologies, Master. I assure you, it won't happen again." Malak was the perfect picture of guilt. Jedi humility.

"It better not. And what of you, Padawan Revan?"

Revan stared back into flat, grey eyes. "My apologies as well, Master Vrook. It was my fault Padawan Malak was late. He was waiting for me."

"Indeed." The old man's nostrils flared. Revan wondered if he was sniffing for ale or spice. It reminded him of a kath hound. "But it was Padawan Malak's choice to wait. He will be punished as well."

"That's not fair, Master Vrook," Revan said loudly. The other students stopped their training exercises and stared. "You can punish me, but Malak did nothing wrong."

"And what would you know about right and wrong? What were you even doing so late at night that caused you to sleep in? Did it have something to do with all of this?" The Jedi Master gestured to the scene of destruction around them.

Vrook's eyes bulged when Revan didn't answer. Now he looked like a demented fish.

"You ruin the training chamber _and_ the Council chamber. And you still have the nerve to come to my class – late no less. And looking like this!" Vrook exploded, indicating the stained robes (that fried gizka sauce just wouldn't come off) and the scruffy hair.

Revan knew he should keep his mouth shut. "Well I would've asked you for a comb, Master, but I didn't think you'd have one." Too late. His Master's bald patch turned a nasty shade of red.

All the students laughed. One of them hooted encouragement.

"Enough!" Vrook shouted. "I will not tolerate this! Padawan, you and Malak will report to me at noon for your punishment."

"Oh no, Revan," one of the Jedi trainees shouted. It was impossible to distinguish who in the crowd of faces. "Maybe you'll have to polish Master Vrook's head until it shines like the twin suns of Tatooine!"

The training chamber rang with laughter. Revan felt buoyed by the energy of his classmates. It filled him with confidence and he fed off of it eagerly.

"Who said that?" The Jedi Master whirled this way and that. The gesture was so pathetic that Revan couldn't help it; he laughed. Vrook's gaze flickered quickly to his and then returned to searching those of his classmates. Every face just leered back at him. "I demand to know!"

"Guess you'll just have to punish all of us, then." Revan's grin was childish, but he was too caught up in the rush of boldness to care.

Vrook's eyes narrowed. Revan's smile slid off his face, now that he realized just how close his Master was to breaking point.

"Get out, all of you. You're all dismissed." The student heard the strain in his Master's voice as he fought to keep it even. "Padawans Revan and Malak, I will see you at noon."

* * *

Malak moaned, stretching and cracking his back. Revan tried to stretch the soreness out of his muscles as well. Between last night's workout and their punishment, he didn't feel like he'd ever recover.

The two padawans had been working all afternoon to restore the training chamber to its former glory: filling in the scorch marks with a sticky, quick-drying substance and then painting it to match. They fixed the new bench. The computer was the absolute worst by far.

"Revan, what in the name of the Force did you do to get Master Vrook so worked up?" Bastila appeared at the entrance. She took Malak's place trying to piece the computer together.

"Thanks, Bast." Malak gave her a quick kiss and collapsed.

"I just let my mouth run a bit."

"A bit? You should've seen him. He wasn't the only one; Master Kreia was just as angry that Vrook kept you here all afternoon doing 'mindless grunt work.' I'm sure she appealed on your behalf."

Kreia. Revan hadn't even seen his mentor today. No doubt, he would have to catch up on his work. As much as she liked him, Kreia didn't give anybody breaks.

"She said for you to see her when you're done," Bastila continued. "I'm guessing you missed a most important lesson."

"It'll be dark before I'm done."

"We'll see." Bastila picked up a piece of the computer.

"Thanks. Guess I owe you a cup of caf, huh?"

"Guess you do." The way she smiled at him made Revan feel like the most important person in the world, even though he knew it must be nothing compared to the way she smiled at Malak.

"Bastila."

"Hmm?"

Malak. He was his best friend. His brother in all but blood. What would he think?

She stared at him expectantly.

"Nothing." He said after a moment. The words on his tongue dissolved into a bitter taste in his mouth.

Revan wished that she would press the issue. That he would have a reason to tell her what his heart told him every night while he lay awake with her image in his mind. But she just went back to her work.

Bastila's brow furrowed in concentration and Revan felt like reaching over and smoothing it out. He imagined how soft the skin must feel...

His grip tightened around the hunk of metal he was holding. No. He couldn't.

Eventually, Malak got up and the three of them worked together, joking and talking.

Revan acted with composure, as practice allowed him too. But his thoughts ran rampant in his mind. Was a chance at love worth breaking this perfect companionship?


	3. The Only Option

**Disclaimer:** I don't own KotoR or anything from it.

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3. The Only Option

Revan strolled down the halls of the Enclave. It was late at night and all he wanted to do was sleep. But Kreia's displeasure was not something he wanted to risk.

Arriving at his mentor's door, he opened it and strode right in. His first ever Master did not believe in knocking in a place where everyone knew you were coming. The room was sparse: there was a bed, a mat on the floor where Kreia sat, meditating cross-legged, and little else.

"Revan." The Jedi Master did not break her concentration.

"Kreia." The Padawan never addressed her as "Master": another formality she disliked.

She turned around and Revan was reminded of how old she was. The sharpness of her mind always made him think of someone younger. Her eyes, however, were another matter. With sadness, he noted that her blindness was getting worse. Kreia stubbornly refused to have it restored, even though the process was painless and easy. She insisted that she had no time for such "trivialities."

Revan sat down without being invited. "Bastila said you had an important lesson for me."

His mentor sighed. She seemed irritated. "Not a lesson, merely a pointless admonishment to ease the sleep of the Jedi Council."

He blinked. "Oh." She was here to give him a lecture.

"How much do you know of Exar Kun?"

"Everything." History? Revan had learned that many years ago, with Master Dorak when the young Jedi had been barely more than a child. The stories had fascinated him; he still recalled every detail.

"Ah. I should have known; you were always as willing to learn as you are now. I haven't seen such an open mind in quite a long time and it serves you well. In any case, tell me what you know of him."

Was this some kind of test?

"Exar Kun was talented Jedi, but rash and arrogant. He travelled to Korriban against the wishes of his master, Vodo-Siosk Baas, and became corrupted by the spirits of Sith Lords. He became evil. A pawn of the dark side. He convinced others to join his cause and together, they attacked the weakened Republic and the Jedi Order."

"And then what happened?"

"We defeated Exar Kun, though our losses were heavy. Even now, we are still rebuilding."

"I doubt I could add to your knowledge of the facts. What the Council wanted me to do was tell you Exar Kun's story and warn you how easily it is to succumb to the lure of the Dark Side, even when you are not aware you are falling. Kun was not without training or self-discipline to resist temptation, but he fell all the same. And others did too."

"Then wouldn't it be better to remove the source of the corruption?"

"And what if the source of the corruption cannot be removed? What if it is not something that can be physically fought or destroyed?"

Revan was confused. Kreia's answers were almost always questions. And they were always cryptic. "I don't understand."

"What do you think Exar Kun found that made him fall? Give in to his hate?"

"His master's Sith holocron that awakened his temptation for power. From there, he went to Freedon Nadd's tomb on Dxun, then Korriban."

"Yes, that is true. But it could have been anything. It was not the object that mattered, rather the way Exar Kun reacted to it."

"So," Revan said slowly, "it's not the Dark Side we should fear. It's the potential we all have to give in to it."

Kreia rewarded him with a rare smile. "Well done.

"The Dark Side will always exist, no matter what any prophecy says. Sometimes in a stronger form, sometimes weaker. That, we cannot control. What we can control is how it affects us. The key is to not let it control your mind.

"The Council wants me to have you believe that you should fear anything to do with the Dark Side," she continued. "I would have you believe that there is no danger in understanding it a little bit better."

This was Kreia's style: take a Jedi lesson and twist it to fit into her own system of beliefs. "I will meditate on what you have said."

Revan stood and turned to leave.

"And what will you do about Bastila?"

"What?"

"You heard me. I know that you like her. Perhaps you love her."

"How did you know?"

"You are – and always were – my favourite student. Every subtle nuance gives you away. The effect she has on your mood. The flicker of your gaze to hers, even when she doesn't see you. The light in your eyes when you speak of her."

"I didn't realize..."

"I may be the first to notice, but if you aren't careful I won't be the last. Take my lesson to heart and control the effect she has on you."

Revan felt himself getting frustrated. She was comparing Bastila, of all people, to a Sith holocron? "This isn't something I can control."

"Then you aren't trying hard enough. I know that Malak complicates things, but you would do well to distance yourself from her. She does not have as much talent or potential as you do. That already creates conflicts. She will feel jealous or insecure."

"Bastila has plenty talent," Revan replied heatedly. "And she's not that kind of person."

"She is a human being. She will act like a human being." Kreia's tone softened. "You must do it now. It will only be harder for you down the road."

"Bastila is my friend. I can't just alienate her for no reason. And I have no reason to want to."

The Jedi Master looked as though she wanted to say something more but all that came out was a goodbye. "You should get some rest. You are young and I am old, yet we both need our sleep. Goodnight Revan."

"Goodnight, Kreia."

He closed the door and then walked slowly back to his room. It wasn't until he got into bed that he realized Kreia had said "goodnight." Briefly, he wondered why she would bother with the pleasantry. He decided that it didn't really matter.

_I know that Malak complicates things_. Did she really have any idea? Revan had been friends with him since they first arrived at the Academy. The two best friends never argued and he knew that Malak would do anything for him because he would do anything in return. Revan would either gain a lover or lose two closest friends. He couldn't see any way to preserve both.

As Revan fell into a deep sleep, too exhausted to worry at the moment, he decided that for once in his life, he would not follow Kreia's advice.

* * *

"Did the young one learn his lesson, Master Kreia?" Vandar asked.

The old Jedi had not gone to sleep as she had led her Padawan to believe. Instead, she had slipped out of her room to the stone atrium of the Council chamber. Masters Vandar, Dorak and Vrook waited eagerly for her answer.

"I did as you asked, much as I was against it."

"And your displeasure was noted. But did Revan learn as he was intended?"

Kreia suppressed a flicker of annoyance. This was how the Jedi taught: force-feeding impressionable minds with tasteless knowledge. "It is too early to tell," she said smoothly.

"Too early to tell?" Dorak sighed. "So he didn't listen then."

"And you told him everything? You warned him of the dangers?" Vrook asked. Always the suspicious one.

"It is nothing he has not heard before a hundred times. I do not see the point in boring him."

"You're avoiding the question."

Did you or did you not inform Padawan Revan of the dangers of the Dark Side?" Vandar was a diminutive figure, but the presence he carried with him was more than enough to make up for his physical size.

"I instructed him to control it instead of let it control him."

"I could have guessed as much," Vrook said exasperatedly. "It was a simple matter, yet you refuse to even do that properly."

"And why must this task fall to me?" She snapped in response. "It is you, Vrook, who so vehemently predicts disaster and wants to lecture Revan on morality!"

"And you can't do anything you are asked without secretly subverting the Council!"

"Peace, Masters," Dorak urged.

"Do not use me as your tool as you wish to shape Revan into."

"That's enough," Vandar said firmly. "Master Kreia, you know that you are the one among us that Revan would be most likely to listen to. That is why we asked you this favour. I understand that your intentions are well-meaning, however...unorthodox your methods are. However, there is truth in Master Vrook's words. We cannot hope to accomplish anything if you will not work with us.

"Many hopes ride on this one," Vandar continued. "Revan is one of our brightest pupils. One of our most talented and promising youth."

"And our most charismatic," Dorak added. "He is a natural leader."

It angered Kreia to hear them talk this way. Like a child fawning over its favourite toy. The council wanted him to be under their thumb so that they could keep their future champion on puppet strings.

"But this charisma is a double-edged blade," Vrook said. "The other students hang onto his every word, like they are his followers. Especially Padawans Bastila and Malak."

"You are being melodramatic and paranoid," Kreia retorted. "Revan makes a joke and the others join in? That is a sign of youth, not of a coup."

"You weren't there," Vrook argued. "You couldn't feel how connected they were in the Force. Their wills were not bent through coercion. It was as if Revan had done it unconsciously."

"I agree that it is troubling," Vandar said. "We will have to take the course of action we agreed upon: Padawan Revan will be sent to Coruscant, where he cannot influence the others. He may return when we think he is ready."

"You insist on trying to mould him into what you want him to be," Kreia said furiously, "but you know nothing of him. He cannot be shaped. He cannot be controlled. He will be what he has always been."

"The Council stands with its decision." Vrook seemed smug.

"You cannot simply tear him away from everything he has known! Let me go with him," Kreia demanded.

"And defeat the very purpose of sending him?" Vrook challenged.

Kreia ignored him. She focused on Vandar's drawn face, which seemed more weathered and lined than usual.

When he spoke, his tone was weary. "No, you may not. He will be allowed to take one companion of his choice, excluding his master."

Kreia seethed silently. This Council was blinder than she was. But they were stubborn. This was the most she could do for Revan and it would have to be enough. "Yes, Master Vandar."

She turned to leave.

"Master Kreia?"

"Yes?"

"You may not see Padawan Revan before he returns from Coruscant."

"Very well."

The Jedi Council was not known for its quick decisions. It would be months – maybe years before Kreia would see her apprentice again. She hoped he wouldn't change at all.

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**Author's Note:** Whew, another chapter up. This one is longer than the last. Not much romance, I know, but there will be in the next chapter.


	4. Burned

**Disclaimer:** No, I don't own KotoR. Don't sue me (not that I'd have much to give you anyway).

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4. Burned

Bastila stepped quietly into Malak's room. It was late. So late, it was early. It was also dark, but she had snuck into this room so many times before that she knew it by heart. She strode the few steps to the bed and lay there. A moment later the mattress shifted. Malak's arms surrounded her and pulled her in to the one place she felt truly safe.

"I almost thought you weren't going to come," he whispered into her hair.

"Yuthura was still awake and I couldn't sneak out," she explained. Luckily, her roommate was a heavy sleeper and a late riser.

"All these secrets," Malak scoffed. "We shouldn't have to hide. The Council's got it all wrong. Feelings aren't mistakes. Without them, we'd just be a bunch of droids."

"The Masters are wiser than we are. Maybe..."

"Maybe what? Are you saying that you regret being with me? That you don't love me?" His voice was rough. Accusing. And because Bastila found it insulting, she matched her tone to his.

"No! Don't be ridiculous. Why would you even say that?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. You have doubts about our relationship. About us."

"Everyone has doubts sometimes, but that doesn't mean that's all they feel. I want to be with you. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here right now."

"Then don't be, if you don't want to."

Bastila bit back a heated retort. It was no good arguing with Malak; he would never end the dispute on his own. Force, he could be like a child sometimes. But she didn't want them to fall asleep angry at each other.

"Don't be mad," she soothed. "I love you. Nothing will change that. Not even the Council."

And to seal the argument, she kissed him. He responded in kind, telling her that all was forgiven. But they didn't stop there. Bastila could taste the passion in his lips, edged with a forceful hunger. Malak moved down to her throat and pulled at her clothes so fast they tore before he could get them off properly.

"Slow down," she gasped, but he crushed her protests with his mouth.

Just as he reached the shirt she had on underneath her robe, Bastila heard footsteps in the hallway outside the room. They stopped so soon afterwards that she wasn't sure if she had imagined it.

"Stop. There's someone outside."

"No," he growled back. "I'm sick of having to restrain myself every time you think you hear a noise outside the door. I'm sick of hiding. I want you. Right _now_."

"Stop," she repeated, but Malak wouldn't listen. "Stop!"

She tried to push him away and when that didn't work, she used the help of the Force. Unfortunately, she overcompensated and ended up dumping her lover off the bed.

He stood up, struggling with the sheets. His face was livid. "What in the Force is wrong with you?" he shouted.

"Shh...someone will hear us."

"I don't care! The whole Jedi Enclave can hear us! Why would you just push me off the bed like that?"

"Because it's the only way you'll listen to me!"

"Listen to what? Isn't this what you want? Am I not what you want?"

"Yes, but I don't want to have sex. Not today. Please."

"Why not? You love me, don't you?"

"Right, because I'd do it if I love you. Don't insult my intelligence; only weak, naive housewives fall for that trick," she said acidly. "So you'll excuse me if I think love is more than just giving in to your raging hormones every time you feel like it."

They glared at each other. Bastila refused to look away. She would not be made to be the guilty party.

"Get out," he said tersely.

"What?"

"Get out. I don't want to see you."

"Fine," she answered fiercely. Pulling her robes back on, she stormed out of the room without a backwards glance, nearly stepping right into Vrook.

The two faced each other for a long moment. She stared into his impassive stare and swallowed hard. The footsteps must have belonged to him. How much had the Jedi Master heard?

"Master Vrook," she said curtly. Without meeting his eyes, she hurried away.

She returned to her own room and lay on her bed listening to Yuthura's light snores. Bastila envied her for being able to sleep so peacefully. No complicated relationship problems to keep _her_ awake. It was the first night that the human Jedi could remember spending without Malak. And although her roommate was in the same room, she had never felt more alone.

When Bastila finally fell asleep, it wasn't for long. She woke up earlier than she usually did and found herself walking to Malak's room, hoping he wasn't still angry. But when she got there, she found the place empty. Of course. Malak was outside the Academy on his usual run before breakfast. The morning seemed to drag on forever without him. She spent it wandering aimlessly around the halls until she saw Master Vrook and stopped dead in her tracks.

She stood still, wondering if it was too late to turn and pretend she hadn't noticed him.

"Padawan Bastila."

"Yes, Master Vrook?"

Was it her imagination, or did his eyes seem more searching, more suspicious than they usually did? Panicked, her mind ran through a hundred explanations for why she had been in Malak's room after hours, each more farfetched than the last.

"Could you inform Padawan Revan that the Council wishes to speak with him?"

She blinked and tried not to look surprised. "Of course, Master. When is the meeting?"

"As soon as he can get to the Council Chamber."

"Yes, Master Vrook. I'll tell him right away."

Her instincts told her not to leave herself defenceless to his glare, but Bastila managed to turn around stiffly and start walking. It didn't take her more than a few steps to realize that she was going the wrong way. Smiling sheepishly, she walked past Vrook in the opposite direction. Vrook did not smile back.

* * *

Revan was floating somewhere between sleeping and dreaming.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead."

He recognized the voice and smiled. Bastila.

"Wake up." And he did.

He opened his eyes and saw pools of liquid silver. The warmth and light of the Sun – reflected a thousand times over in her eyes – pierced straight through to his heart. Basking in its glow felt like watching a sunrise without any sunsets to follow. The rest of the world could perish for all he cared; the light alone was enough to live for.

The grey eyes looked confused. "What are you staring at?"

"You," he said simply, but he instantly wished he hadn't. The silence between them became awkward. Revan looked around. "Hey, where's Malak?"

Bastila seemed slightly relieved. "He's out running. You should get up. The Council wants a word with you."

Revan groaned. The sunlight streaming through the window was weak and the shadows in the room were tall. Early morning sunlight. Damn. He'd been hoping to sleep until the afternoon. But he couldn't exactly say no to the Jedi Council; the Masters were patient, but he doubted they'd wait that long.

He rolled out of bed and tried, for the second morning in a row, to look presentable. As he stood in front of the mirror, he wondered what the Council could want with him. It must have been something important. It wasn't rare for a Master to speak with a student, but the entire Council at once...

His first thought was that they wanted to punish him. Revan had heard stories of exile and even severing one's ties with the Force. It took him a moment to realize how irrational his fears were; those kinds of punishments were reserved for the worst of the Sith. For extreme cases. But his mind flashed back to Vrook's face at the end of the class. Behind the barely suppressed rage was an expression Revan hadn't noticed. The Master Jedi had looked deeply...unsettled.

Coming out of the fresher, he was surprised to see Bastila still perched on the edge of his bed.

He took in her pursed lips. "Is something wrong?"

"Malak and I had a fight," she said quietly.

Revan sat down next to her. "What about?"

"About...keeping secrets and...other things." She blushed towards the end. He decided he didn't want to know.

"You know Malak better than anyone: he can be a little hard-headed at times. Okay, maybe very hard-headed."

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, then disappeared. "You weren't there, Revan. The way we were shouting – I thought we'd woken up the entire Enclave. And the way I felt...like everything was hopeless. Beyond repair."

"Well maybe you should take a break from each other for a while. See how things are and then go from there."

"Okay." Bastila blinked in surprise. He knew what she had expected him to say: that everything would be alright. That Malak was just throwing a tantrum. But as much as he knew he should, Revan's throat tightened around the words. _Selfish_, he chided himself. But he wasn't listening.

"Don't worry. Everything will be okay." Tentatively, he placed his hand on her wrist. Placing it on her hand would be admitting something to himself – and maybe to her. If he placed it on her hand, he'd never let go. He loved the feel of her skin on his, but he hated the means he used. _You're a monster_, he told himself. _Using any excuse you can get your hands on. Betraying your best friend to be with her_.

"Thanks for the advice, Rev."

Revan's answering smile pained him. "It was nothing."

He stood to leave, thinking he couldn't bare another moment in her company like this, so close to her but still so far.

"Revan?"

He squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment. "Yes?"

"Why does the Council want to see you?"

"I don't know. What do you think?"

Bastila said uneasily, "Vrook saw me leaving Malak's room. I don't know how much he heard of our shouting match. You've been such a good friend," she continued, "keeping our relationship a secret even though you'd get in trouble too."

"You think they want to talk to me about you and Malak."

She nodded. "I feel stupid and horrible for even asking. But you won't tell them will you?"

"Never."

It was strange, how easily her expression changed from anxious to content with a single word.

"Bye, Revan."

"Bye." He paused at the door and made up his mind. He couldn't stand it anymore; he would ask Bastila if she loved him. Today. "By the way, don't I owe you a cup of caf?"

Her lips were pursed again, this time in thought. "Two actually: one for the duel and one for helping you with the training computer. But you can start with one." She grinned.

Revan opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. "Two cups it is then."

* * *

The Council chamber was a giant, circular room made of stone and with no roof. It wasn't often used; the Masters were usually either teaching classes, meditating in their rooms or offworld on various missions. The chamber was reserved for ceremonies or, as was Revan's case, private meetings. The Jedi Masters stood around the edge of the circle, ready to receive him.

They were in the midst of a heated discussion, but stopped as soon as Revan was within earshot.

"Padawan Revan," Vandar greeted.

"Masters." His gaze swept over them all. Vandar with his skin as creased as old parchment; Dorak, whose stories had hypnotized Revan as a child; and Vrook, whose features were set in a permanent scowl.

"You are an exceptional student. You have great skill with a lightsaber and a fascinating talent with the Force."

"Thank you, Master." From the corner of his eye, Revan saw the corner of Vrook's lips twitch.

"But do not forget that your excellence has been earned through hard work. You have done well so far and, if you remain focused, you still have a ways to go."

"Yes, Master."

"That being said, we have decided to send you to Coruscant for additional training."

"Really?" Revan's fatigue vanished. He felt invigorated. This was even better than he had dared hope for. Than he had dared imagine. A privilege. He was going to Coruscant. His mind filled with images of bright, colourful lights and more species than he knew the names of. And all the extra skills he would learn...

"Indeed," Dorak said with a small smile. "I have an old friend there: Master Zhar. I think you two will get along very well.

"Before you get too excited," Vrook said, "you should know that you may only take one of your friends with you."

The Master's words deflated his good mood. The joy drained from his face. Revan hadn't even thought of that. He'd taken for granted that he, Bastila and Malak would always face everything together. Inseparable.

"How long until I can come back? A few weeks? A month?"

"No," Vandar answered. "It may be years before you return. Choose wisely."

Revan inhaled sharply. _Years_. "In that case, I don't think I can go."

Vandar stared, surprised. "I know that it is difficult to be away from those you care for. But a Jedi sent to other worlds – more often than not – travels alone. And this is a great opportunity. Sure, are you, that you want to pass it up?"

"I..." Bastila. Malak. He couldn't just leave one of them behind...could he?

"Perhaps you need a little more time," Dorak suggested gently. "The shuttle leaves tonight. That should be enough to pack what you need and say your goodbyes. If you should decide that you want to go."

"Yes, Master. Thank you."

Stiffly, he walked away with his mind reeling. Today was feeling more and more like a dream.

* * *

"A cup of caf for the lady," Revan said as he offered her a steaming cup.

"Thanks." Bastila accepted it with a smile.

The two walked together to the courtyard of the Enclave, eager to escape the prying eyes and ears of Jedi in the mess hall. A massive tree grew on an island of grass beneath a cloudless sky.

It was a reminder of the nature of the Force: from the thickest bough to the tiniest leaf, all things were interconnected; one just had to think of the bigger picture.

With a sigh, Bastila sat down on the grass and Revan took a seat beside her.

A talk over caf. No Dantooine, no Jedi training, just caf and a girl. Revan could almost pretend they were a normal couple out on a normal date. Bastila drank her caf quietly. Revan blew on his cautiously and waited for it to cool. This had gone so perfectly in his mind: an earnest confession, an "I love you too" and then falling asleep in each other's arms. But his plan was not translating well into real life.

"So what was your meeting with the Council about?" She asked. "Or am I not allowed to know?"

"It was about a trip to Coruscant for additional training."

"That's great, Rev! It's what you always wanted. I'm happy for you." She beamed.

He shook his head. "I'm not going."

"Why not?"

"Because out of Malak and you, I can only pick one to go with me. And I don't want to have to choose between you two."

Revan would like nothing more than to spend time with Bastila where they could be alone together, but the memory of the awkwardness that morning still lingered. What if she didn't return his love? He'd have to look her in the eye every day for years.

But bringing Malak would be no less problematic. Either he would resent Revan for loving Bastila or resent him for stealing her from him.

There was no way to win without losing.

Bastila was quiet for a moment. "Take Malak with you. I know how much you want it and I know that Malak wants it too. He always complained about never getting to travel offworld."

"But won't you miss him?"

"Yes. But you don't have to punish yourself for us. I don't even know if..." Her voice trailed off and she frowned sadly.

"So things aren't going well with him."

She pursed her lips again. Not a good sign. For Malak, at least. "I looked for him during your meeting, but I couldn't find him. I think he's avoiding me."

"Give it some time. You never know what could happen."

Bastila laughed. "Like what, Revan? There's only two possibilities: either we're still together after all of this, or we're not."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"What?"

He needed to force the issue instead of dancing around the subject. No more vague allusions in the hopes that she would answer his question without having to be asked. This time he would actually tell her how he felt.

"Revan, I don't know what you're talking about anymore."

"Bastila, if you never listen to me again in your life, listen to what I'm saying now.

"From the moment I felt it, I've wanted to tell you. You were wearing robes that were too big for you because, with all the new Padawans coming in, they didn't have your size. You stood next to a window with your shoulders stooped because you were tired. Your hair was brown and in a messy ponytail. Gold, where the sunlight touched it. You missed your father. I told you that it was alright, that you'd see him some day, even if it wasn't soon. I told you that I could be your brother until then. We could do all sorts of things together. We'd have so much fun.

"And you smiled at me. That moment – that exact moment – was when I felt it. You were ten and I was eleven. Kids. I didn't know what to call it then, I didn't even know what it really was. But I know what it is now. Love. I love you, Bastila Shan."

In his imagination, Revan had stared straight into her eyes. But in this moment, he couldn't look.

"Oh, Revan."

It was a sigh and one he had dreamed of hearing. But it was not said the way he had dreamed.

"When we were children, you said you would be my brother. And after that moment, that was how I always thought of you: as a brother. I don't love you, not like that. I'm so sorry."

"We don't have to be brother and sister." Revan hated how desperate he sounded.

"No. I can't. I just don't love you that way."

"You love Malak that way."

"Yes," she admitted, staring into her cup as if the right words to say were in there.

"Why? Is it because you think he loves you more? I don't know how much he loves you, but I know how much _I_ love you. I'd always treat you right. I'd never pressure you to –"

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"I can't explain it. It's the way he talks, the things he says, the way he acts..."

"You hate me."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Don't say that! I don't hate you. I just don't love you the way you want me to."

To Revan, they were the same thing.

_She knew_, he thought wildly. In a better state of mind, he might have realized how outrageous this was. But his heart was broken and his mind was frantically trying to put it back together.

_Bastila had known all along_, he thought. He imagined her and Malak in bed together, laughing at his misfortune to love a girl who was already in love with another. His face burned in humiliation.

"I'm sorry," she said again, but he wasn't listening.

Instead, he thought of Malak with a sudden, spiteful jealousy. What made him so much more deserving? Revan made a snap decision.

"I'm going to go to Coruscant," he said firmly. "And I'm going to take Malak with me."

She saw the motive in his eyes. "No. Please, you aren't thinking straight. We just need some time to work it out. We can work this out." _Now who sounds desperate_, he thought bitterly.

"No, we can't. I'm going to leave and take him with me." Brushing his robes off, he stood. He left his undrunk cup on the grass. If it burned him, he wanted no part of it. He started to walk purposefully away.

"Revan." He ignored her. "Revan, wait!"

Revan turned.

"Malak is like a brother to you, isn't he?"

"Yes," he said through gritted teeth. And it was true. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hate his friend of years. It would be so much easier that way. Then he could be justified in blaming someone. Then he wouldn't have to feel guilty for trying to steal Bastila from him.

"Then promise me something," she asked. "Promise me that you'll take care of him no matter what happens. Promise me you'll take care of him."

Revan stared into her pleading, grey eyes. The twin suns of his world. And found that he couldn't deny her what she wanted, even though she owed him nothing for how she made him feel.

"I promise."

He walked away and she knew better than to try and stop him. Revan could still taste the burn on his tongue. He told himself he shouldn't want it. It was bad for him anyway. It had always tasted bittersweet to him, enjoyable but never completely so. Now it held nothing but bitterness.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Whew, that took a while and a lot of thought. Respect for all those other authors that write 5000+ word chapters (I feel like my word count is short compared to everyone elses). I will try to work on that... Anyway, this chapter was fun to write, mainly because there's an actual progression in the Bastila/Revan/Malak relationship. So proud of the caf analogies. =)


	5. Departure

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Knights of the Old Republic. I don't own Star Wars either.

* * *

5. Departure

---

Revan felt stunned. Concussed. What was he doing here? A group of Jedi stood chatting by a window. His and Bastila's window. Their conversation was just a muted buzzing against his eardrums. Meaningless noise.

In his stupor, he walked right into someone. He didn't stop to look at his face or answer the Jedi's questions. The group of Padawans fell silent and stared as he walked hurriedly past them.

Kreia. He needed to speak to Kreia. Her cool, impersonal logic would put everything in the proper perspective. If there was sense still left in the world, she would find it and show it to him.

Revan strode quickly down the hallway, driving his feet forward with a purpose and pace more like a march than a walk. He reached her door and went to push it open –

It was locked.

He rapped his knuckles on the door. "Kreia?" No answer. He knocked harder. "Kreia!"

"She isn't in the Enclave, Padawan."

Revan turned to find Dorak looking at him with concern. "What? Why? Where did she go?"

"She left recently to study some artifacts on another planet."

The young Jedi stared at the closed door that had – in a way – always been open to him. Until now. "Why didn't she tell me...?"

"She will return in time," the Jedi historian assured him. "But it may be many months."

"What planet?" Dorak just shook his head. The Padawan's voice rose, fuelled by frustration and distress. He had been cheated out of the only comfort he could think of. "_What planet?_"

"I cannot tell you."

"Why not?"

"I can't tell you that either."

The historian met Revan's furious gaze evenly and didn't say another word. It didn't matter; the young Jedi could figure it out on his own. Not telling him where Kreia went, sending him to Coruscant..."You don't want me to find her."

"Padawan, try to understand that the decisions the Council makes are difficult but are also for the benefit of everyone. The results or reasons are not always obvious or immediate; but you must trust in its wisdom."

Revan breathed deeply. "Fine. I'll go to Coruscant if the Council wants to get rid of me so much. And I'll take Malak with me."

"I can sense that something is troubling you, Padawan. You don't have to leave today if you don't want to. Perhaps it would be better if you took some time to –"

"No. I've made my choice."

He turned his back on the Jedi Master and headed in the direction of his room. Was it just this morning that he had felt completely normal? Now he was angry at everyone: Dorak, the Council, Malak, Bastila. It was late afternoon and his day was already beyond spoiled.

* * *

Bastila sat alone in her room. She couldn't even meditate, not when her concentration was so frayed. Revan's face kept floating to the surface of her thoughts, no matter how hard she tried to drown it out. His expression was so disappointed – so devastated – that she automatically felt guilty. _It wasn't your fault_, she told herself firmly. But it was hard to be so sure when she kept having to look him in the eye.

And when he was walking away... Malak had told her what happened during Vrook's lesson – how the entire class suddenly turned against the Master Jedi. Although her lover had seemed exuberant at the memory, she had found it hard to believe. How could Revan have motivated all those students to side against someone they all respected so greatly? But she didn't believe that anymore. When he left her in the courtyard, she could sense the sorrow and anger emanating from him in waves that left her reeling. She felt compelled to empathize with him even though – technically – she was the enemy.

"Bastila?"

She opened her eyes to find Malak watching her.

"Malak, I –"

He lifted a hand to stop her. "I'm so sorry about yesterday. I shouldn't have pressured you into doing something you didn't want to. I was stupid and I was wrong. Will you forgive me?"

It took a moment for Bastila to remember what he was talking about. Strange, how she had traded one worry for another. "Of course I forgive you."

Malak beamed and kissed her swiftly on the lips. "I love you."

She tried to smile. "I love you, too."

He frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Revan..."

"Revan? I saw him in the hallway. To be more precise, I walked into him. But he didn't answer me when I asked him where he was going. It was like he couldn't see me at all. What's wrong with him today?"

"I told him something he didn't want to hear."

"Like what?"

"It's complicated."

"What did you do?" Malak's tone changed from anxious to suspicious. "Rev and I have been best friends since we first met on this planet. If anything happens to him, I should know about it. Just tell me."

She knew she should tell Malak what happened, but she imagined what her best friend would say. He had told her his deepest secret and Bastila owed it to him to keep it. It was the least she could do. "I can't."

"Why not?"

She shook her head. "If he wants to tell you, he will. But it's not my secret to share."

"So it's bad," he said slowly.

"I hurt him, but not on purpose. It's something I can't help but I don't think he sees it that way. Please, just be kind to him, Malak. Do whatever he asks of you and if he doesn't want to tell you about it, don't push him. Do it for me."

Confused and wary, he agreed. "Alright, I will."

"You should talk to him. He might not realize it yet, but he needs you."

* * *

Malak found his friend in the mess hall, chatting casually among a group of Jedi. They leaned toward Revan, hanging on his every word. No one even looked up when Malak approached.

Except Revan himself, of course. "Hey, Malak."

"Hi."

"Fried gizka?" He pushed a plate of meat slathered in brown sauce towards him.

"No , I'm not hungry." Malak scrutinized his friend's face. The bright, slightly mischievous eyes. The easy-going smile. Nothing seemed out of place. Had Bastila lied? But she seemed genuinely upset. Maybe Revan had gotten over it...whatever _it_ was. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure thing."

They walked just outside the mess hall, into an empty corridor where the sounds of eating and conversation were muted.

"Do you want to talk?" Malak asked.

"Actually, I was about to come talk to you. This morning, the Council told me that I'm going to Coruscant for a few years to get additional training. Special training. And I want you to come with me."

"What?" Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't this. "All the way to Coruscant? And for a few years! I don't know, Revan. I have to think about this."

"We have to leave tonight. There isn't time to think."

This was the biggest opportunity anyone had ever offered Malak. The decision would have been easy except... "What about Bastila?"

The easy smile faltered for only a split second, but it was enough for Malak to notice. The spark in Revan's eyes hardened to a glint before softening again. "The Council said I could only take one of you."

"Did something happen between you two?"

"What did she tell you?" Revan asked quietly.

"Nothing. She said that you were upset with her and you would tell me if you wanted me to know."

Revan looked slightly relieved. "Earlier, I asked Bastila if she wanted to come. She said no."

"You asked Bastila first."

"Neither of us could find you. She thought you were avoiding her because you were still mad after your little...spat. So I decided to ask her first."

Malak winced guiltily. "I just needed some time alone. Everything's forgiven now. Why did she say no?"

"She said that she knew you would rather go. That you always wanted to travel offworld."

"That's it? That's why you were upset with her?"

"That's it." Revan smiled, his expression unreadable as stone. "Are we playing twenty questions now?"

"Sorry, I just – Bastila seemed to think you were really upset is all. We worried."

"She probably exaggerated." Malak's mind flashed back to when he'd literally walked into his best friend. Revan's stare had been blank, like he hardly knew where he was going. Though he had left quickly enough and without a word. "So are you coming or not?"

_Do whatever he asks of you...Do it for me_. Malak had assumed Bastila meant a favour of some sort. This was much more than he had expected, or could even imagine. He wrestled with it, then came up with a decision. She wouldn't have asked him to do it if she wasn't fine with it.

"I'll come to Coruscant with you."

"Excellent," Revan said excitedly. "You should follow me to the shuttle. It's leaving in five minutes."

"Five minutes? I haven't even packed or said goodbye to Bastila yet."

"No time for all that. We can't be late."

"Then wait for me, Rev, will you?"

Malak was already gone. He never noticed that Revan's eyes were glinting once more, not a trace of a smile on his face.

* * *

Malak fingered the stone on his dresser drawer. It was polished smooth by centuries of water pushing and pulling across its surface. Bands of brown in every shade from a deep, reddish-brown to a tawny gold coloured the rock. As an object, it was worthless. But to Malak it was a priceless reminder of Bastila and the time they spent together on the beach where they had found it. The memory brought a smile to his lips. Beaches on a grassland world like Dantooine were rare; it was a special place – a sanctuary for two lovers whose relationship was forbidden.

If anything was worth bringing, this was it.

He pocketed it in his robes and took a final look around the room before leaving.

* * *

When Malak arrived with Bastila at the shuttleport, the Sun was slipping past the horizon. He noticed that a small crowd of Jedi had gathered around the humming ship. It seemed that Revan was anxious to go. Some of the people were merely curious onlookers with time to spare, but he recognized many of them as Revan's well-wishers.

"Did Revan invite all these people here?" Bastila whispered as they approached the shuttle. "He told me it would just be the three of us."

Malak shrugged. His best friend was acting stranger and stranger recently.

Revan stood at the top of the ramp, looking excited and impatient. "Ready to go?"

"Almost." Malak took a deep breath and turned to Bastila. "I'll miss you."

The fading sunlight spilt over her face, illuminating her features. Even the glorious Dantooine sunset was no match for her beauty. He committed every soft curve, every strand of hair to his memory. This was the image he wanted to see when he closed his eyes and he could think of nothing better.

"I'll miss you too," she smiled sadly.

He wanted to kiss her, soft and slow, but there was no chance for that with so many witnesses watching. He settled for a quick, meaningful embrace. When it was over, Malak expected his last look into her eyes for years.

But she wasn't looking at him. He followed her gaze to see that she was watching Revan instead. Revan, who had turned his back on them and was walking into the shuttle.

* * *

The humming of the shuttle's engines escalated to a rumble as it lifted into the sky. Bastila waved, even though she knew Revan and Malak would never see it.

Life would be hard for both of them when the distance between them spanned light years, but she knew that they would get by. She worried for Revan though: it pained her that the last encounter that she would have for years with her best friend would be tainted by sorrow and anger. She hoped that Revan would forgive her in time.

The shuttle, now a mere speck, jumped into hyperspace. In the moment where the day had not quite ended and the night had not quite begun, it flashed like a brilliant star and then was gone. The Sun was fully set now, leaving her alone on a cold planet that lacked any light or warmth.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This chapter was pretty much a struggle from beginning to end... I came up with so many different ways Malak and Revan could react to this and then kept going back to revise it because it didn't fit their character or it wasn't the right time to reveal something. Anyway, more to come soon!

And if you can spare a few moments, please visit my profile and vote on my poll for which KOTOR story I should write next. =)


	6. Good Intentions

**Author Note: **This chapter focuses more on introducing new characters or new aspects of characters that we haven't seen before. Do good intentions justify actions? And we also meet a droid that sounds suspiciously familiar...

**Disclaimer:** In no way does anything Star Wars belong to me

* * *

Kreia wandered down another hallway, navigating the underground tunnels by the glow of her lightsaber and the Force. In truth, the Jedi Master had no need of light to see. It didn't do her much good anyway, not with her vision regressing as it was. But she couldn't bring herself to extinguish her weapon.

She'd never admit it to herself that it was because she was afraid. Only little children were afraid of the dark, not Jedi Masters. But she felt that there was a reason for her sense of being watched and the cold that permeated even her thick robes.

So she left the light on.

She turned again and found herself at the beginning of a very long corridor. As she advanced further, she came across many paths branching off in different directions. Kreia was tempted to discover their destinations, but she chose to remain focused and stay on course.

It seemed a routine enough mission when the Council had assigned it to her, more to keep her away from someone rather than send her somewhere she was needed. It wasn't what she had wanted, but she had to respect her fellow Jedi's wishes. They meant well and believed in the same ideals, after all.

And so she found herself here, deep within an underground, cavernous maze that was imbued with Dark Side energy. Even if there were no Sith down here, there was something of the Sith. Kreia could feel it. The only entrance she knew of had sealed itself behind her. She would either leave with her task complete, or else not leave at all.

There was a light further ahead. Creeping closer, she caught sight of a figure with a lightsaber walking towards her. Probing through the Force, she could feel nothing living. The figure must be masking its presence...or else it wasn't alive.

Kreia stopped. So did the figure.

"Hello?" She called. No answer.

They both stood still for a moment. Then Kreia, realizing there was nothing else to do, walked forward cautiously, tension mounting with every step. The figure mirrored her movements perfectly, right down to her stance. What was it? A Sith? A droid? A mimicking shapeshifter?

It was a mirror.

Kreia's surprised and embarrassed reflection stared back at her. Herself a master of puzzles, she should've realized such a simple illusion earlier. _It's just you_, she chided herself. The Jedi Master examined the mirror from top to bottom, but found only her and the length of the hallway doubled in its depths.

A dead end this way.

At the sound of rock grating on rock, she spun around, only to find her only exit sealed by a stone wall.

Even with the help of the Force, she could not push it out of her way. There were no hidden switches in any crack or crevice, physical or through the Force. Her lightsaber left nothing more a smoking scratch across its surface. She pressed her hand against the rough rock. The wall was too thick; in the time it would take her to cut her way through, she would suffocate.

"Surrender yourself to the dark." The voice was a half-hiss, half-whisper and it made Kreia's skin crawl. It came from right beside her ear but there was no one there, just her and her reflection. Running out of time. Running out of air.

She reached out with the Force, trying to communicate with the mysterious voice. There was nothing but the quiet hum of her saber.

_Surrender yourself to the dark_.

Steeling her resolve, Kreia switched off her lightsaber and let the darkness swallow her whole.

The only things she could hear were her own shallow breathing and frantic heartbeat. The only thing she could feel was the solid ground beneath her boots. The only thing she could taste was the metallic taste of fear on her tongue.

She tried again, to look for a way out through the Force, but to avail. Then she realized that the answer had been staring her in the face all along: the mirror. There was no light to reflect but she could still see it, as if it was being lit from behind. Perhaps it wasn't a mirror at all...

At the moment the Jedi reached out to touch it, it swung open like a door, revealing a small room beyond.

There was nothing very remarkable about the room itself, just the same impassable stone walls. What drew Kreia's attention was the centrepiece: a Sith holocron.

It was a black pyramid with a smooth, polished surface covered in strange markings, humming with an aura of Dark Side energy that both repulsed and enthralled her. She sat cross-legged before it.

She should destroy it. That was what she had been sent to do in the first place.

But why? Because the Council were so paranoid in the face of corruption? They had proved that already in their overreaction to Revan's disruption in class. The first step to defeating an enemy was understanding them: their methods and weaknesses. It was a golden opportunity and Kreia intended to take full advantage of it. She would destroy it afterwards and only afterwards.

Not that the Council would have to know, or else they would surely reprimand her – or worse. No, this would be her secret. When her knowledge led to the defeat of the Sith, no more would they denounce her teachings.

Making herself as comfortable as she could be on the cold, stone floor, she activated the holocron. She took notes on flimsiplast as she never had much patience for datapads or machinery of any kind.

She had no idea how much time had passed by the time she was finished, only that her hands ached from cramps and her stomach growled with hunger. It was a shame her body did not share the same enthusiasm for knowledge as her mind.

There was an exit at one end of the room which led to the bottom of a ramp. The air smelled fresher that way. Kreia took a last look before leaving and found that the mirror-door was a mirror on both sides.

She touched it carefully and the surface rippled violently in response. What a strange substance...she only wished she had the chance to study it in more detail.

When the ripples settled, her reflection had changed.

Kreia's simple brown robes had become the black robes of great Sith Masters. Her reflection's hood was thrown back to reveal chalk-white skin and cracked lips twisted in a malevolent sneer. Orbs of pure black stared back at her from their sockets.

But she was sure it was just the tunnels, playing tricks on her.

She turned and left without a second glance.

* * *

Revan pressed his forehead against the cool metal wall and exhaled in a gusty breath that was more like a sigh. He closed his eyes, tired but unable to sleep.

When he and Malak had first arrived on Coruscant, it was with the excitement of two farmboys going to live in the city. This new planet was both frightening and exhilarating for the same reason: it was like nothing they'd ever experienced before.

Coruscant was a sprawling metropolis. A single, unending blanket of lights that stretched farther than the eye could see, as if each light was a star and the planet was actually its own galaxy within a galaxy. There were complicated webs of skyscrapers and skylanes above webs of city streets. The padawan had marvelled at how so many different beings could coexist as one. There was so much to see. So much to do. So much to _learn_.

But the spell of awe lasted only briefly; the lights and noise gave Revan headaches. He found it impossible to find his way anywhere outside the Jedi Temple without being getting lost. The aliens, it seemed, were sometimes less than friendly. But being inside the Temple, while safer, was no more comforting.

The walls were cold, smooth metal – nothing at all like the stone walls that had surrounded him for the better part of his life. More than that, he missed the people who had surrounded him. He missed his old friends. He missed his old Jedi Masters, Vandar and Dorak. Force, he'd even be glad to see Vrook, as wrinkled and frowny as that familiar face was. He missed Kreia.

He missed Bastila.

Malak shared his friend's feelings, no doubt. But unlike his friend, Malak mostly stayed in his room and sulked. None of Revan's spirited attempts to cheer him up could bring him out of his homesick stupor.

A Jedi Knight passed by and Revan hastily straightened up and nodded hello. The Knight returned his greeting, barely sparing him a glance.

There was another thing about this planet; absolute silence was so hard to come by. Not that the halls of the Temple were very noisy, but whenever the padawan tried to sleep every footstep sounded like a clap of thunder – and there were always people walking to and fro. Even when it was night on Coruscant, Jedi were always arriving from or leaving on different assignments, seeking the wisdom of other Masters, or looking up something in the Jedi Archives.

Eventually, he took to midnight walks, wandering the halls until his body no longer let him stay awake. Revan wouldn't so much go to bed as he would collapse on it. It left him tired and unable to concentrate as much as he used to be able to.

He shuffled along as though sleepwalking. He only wished he was. Down this hallway, turn left to nowhere in particular.

As he walked, he reminisced of Dantooine sunrises. How it would start with a sliver of light on the horizon, so blinding it was as if Revan had forgotten what light looked like. Then the light would spread slowly outwards and paint the world gold. Everything would shimmer for a moment – and then the magic of it all would be lost to what was just another ordinary day.

He, Malak and Bastila would wake up early every so often to watch, shivering slightly before the Sun warmed their faces and melted the frost. Revan wondered how memories, which he thought would be enough to sustain him, could leave him feeling so hollow.

A sliver of light shone through a barely open doorway up ahead. The hallway was deserted. Curious, Revan snuck a peek inside.

Droids stood along the walls like sentinels watching over the many piles of mechanical parts littered all over the floor. They ranged in every stage of completion imaginable; some were mere skeletons with only the barest wires keeping the metal bones together while others looked eerily similar to human beings with eyes and faces.

Without thinking, Revan entered the room, wanting to take a closer look.

A droid appeared so close to his face that he automatically flinched back. "Greeting: Hello and welcome, Master. I am HK-24. Query: How may I serve you today?"

"Er, I don't need anything, thanks." He retreated a few steps with half a mind to run out of the room and another half to reduce the droid to spare parts if it tried anything.

"Statement: Perhaps you need something translated. I am fluent in over a thousand different languages and dialects spoken across the galaxy." The droid took a few steps forward and Revan's hand impulsively moved to the lightsaber on his belt.

"No, I don't. Really."

"HK-24, command: shut down." Its arms went limp, the sensors that were its eyes turned dark.

A twi'lek stepped into view, with his lekku wrapped neatly around his neck and dressed in the ceremonial blue robes of a Jedi Master.

"Master," Revan said quickly, bowing. "I'm sorry, I was just walking outside and the door was open and I just –"

"Peace, Padawan." The twi'lek smiled: a kind smile that reached his violet eyes. "Curiosity should never be punished. It should be encouraged."

Revan grinned eagerly back. It was the first sign of friendliness any Jedi Master at the Temple had shown him. "Yes, Master...?"

"My name is Zhar."

The padawan's eyes lit up. "You're a friend of Master Dorak!"

"Yes, and he spoke very highly of you."

The young Jedi felt a pang of guilt as he remembered his last, angry words to the historian.

Master Zhar indicated the deactivated droid with a tilt of his head. "I see you have met HK-24. He is quite the chatterbox, isn't he? You would've never guessed he is an assassin droid."

"_An assassin droid?_"

Zhar chuckled at the look on Revan's face. "They masquerade as protocol droids to hide their more...sinister intentions. I encountered several of them on my last assignment for the Council on Taris. They belonged to a wealthy aristocrat who was using them to further his political and social standing. I removed the assassination protocols from one that was inactive and brought it back here, where it has been quite useful."

"But who would make such a thing?" Revan asked.

"We suspect that Czerka Corp is at least partly responsible for such a piece of machinery, but we have no proof. And with no proof, we have no case against them."

"But you're sure it was them?"

"Quite."

"Then they should be punished all the same," Revan muttered darkly.

The Jedi Master looked at him curiously but said nothing.

"I've never seen such a complicated droid before," the padawan said. "I mean, there were droids on Dantooine, but they were all just plain information droids and I never really noticed or cared about them..." Revan realized he was rambling and trailed off, feeling self-conscious.

But Master Zhar only smiled again. "You are not alone. Even some of the greatest Jedi do not care for droids. They are so often overlooked because they aren't living things or beings and as such, they have no impact on what we know as the world of the Force.

But this isn't true. Obviously, droids can affect the living, as was the case with the Tarisian aristocrat. And though they do not breathe, they still give off slight oscillations of energy in the Force, much in the same way a living thing gives off an aura. One must only keep his mind open to detect them."

Revan gazed around the room, the jumbles of parts now taking on new meaning to him. Maybe he was wrong to dismiss droids so easily...maybe machinery had its own life to it – artificial yes, but still life.

"When I cannot sleep or if I have free time, sometimes I will come in here and tinker with the different parts and wires. It is never too late or too early to experiment and learn something new. And you, Padawan?" Master Zhar asked gently.

"Huh?" The young Jedi had been trying to sense the "slight oscillations of energy" through the Force.

"I merely asked why you aren't sleeping at this hour, as most young ones would be."

Revan bit his lip. "I miss Dantooine. I miss home," he said quietly.

The Jedi Master laid a hand on his shoulder. The weight was both heavy and comforting at the same time. "So it is that the most adventurous are those who best love home. But fear not, young Revan: though home may be changed by time and memories may fade, those who truly love you will still love you and you will still love them. Carry them with you in your heart, if that is what you need to do to carry on."

The young Jedi nodded, his eyelids suddenly very heavy. He yawned. "I think I'll go to bed now, Master Zhar. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Padawan. Sleep well."

And sleep well Revan did that night – and every night that he spent on Coruscant afterwards.


	7. Old Friends

**Author's Note:** I've been getting a few reviews about the whole BastilaxMalak thing (most notably the flame, but since the flame makes no sense like all flames do, I won't pay any mind to it) so let me explain my mindset a bit: I've both seen and read BastilaxRevan fanfics. Obviously, the pairing is only natural: she is your romantic interest in the game, after all (whereas Malak is the big bad guy). And since they're together in the game, it's easy to imagine them having always been together. But I thought I'd push the boundaries a little and try something I've never seen anyone do before.

Something else I haven't seen much of that I'm trying to push boundaries with: relationships between real people don't always stay the way they are. They change, they bend, sometimes they break. And I want to do the same thing with my fanfic. Pairings may not stay the same. Alignments may not stay the same. It may take quite a few chapters for changes to happen, but they will.

I do appreciate that people who find Bastila/Malak "ew" can still enjoy the story. Thank you for your reviews/criticism!

As for staying with canon, I only get my info from the games and as far as I know (feel free to correct me if I'm wrong), there was nothing about Revan or Malak even knowing Bastila before the events of KOTOR 1 - except for maybe that kinrath cave thing with Malak and Bastila - so I took that as free game...

That must be a world record for the longest author's note ever... Happy New Year, everyone!

**Disclaimer: **In caveman: me no own kotor.

* * *

7. Old Friends

---

The communicator console in Revan and Malak's room chirped loudly, jarring both Padawans from their early morning sleep.

Knowing it was Bastila, Revan rolled over in bed and closed his eyes. She'd been calling a lot lately, no doubt as lonely without Malak as he was without her. Revan would either leave or try to ignore them at these moments; it was both painful and uncomfortable to have to listen to it.

But the console kept ringing. He sat up and looked over at his friend's sleeping form, annoyed. "Are you going to get that?"

Malak muttered something unintelligible. Revan sighed and answered it himself. "Hi, Bastila."

He noticed that she was as beautiful as she had ever been. "Revan," she said, surprised. "I – it's been quite a while."

"Yeah, it has," he answered with a tired smile. Just three weeks that already felt like months. "So how have you been?"

"I'm alright," Bastila said a bit too quickly.

He cocked his head at her. "Are you sure?"

"I'm getting by." She fidgeted uncomfortably. "Is Malak there?"

Revan glanced behind him. "Just a second."

Only his friend's bald head was visible in the tangle of blankets. Revan shook Malak's shoulder but he didn't stir. He shook him again – this time more roughly – but it didn't earn him any better response than before.

"Bastila wants to talk to you," he said quietly.

"Go away," Malak whispered fiercely back. He glared – eyes wide and bloodshot – before rolling over, turning his back on his friend.

But that wasn't what bothered Revan the most: when Malak spoke, Revan caught the strong, sour odour of ale on his breath.

Disgusted, he returned his attention to the console. "Malak's still sleeping. But you could always call later. It's still pretty early."

"Oh." She seemed to deflate before his eyes. "Sorry, I keep forgetting the time difference. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"That's okay," he said brightly. "At least I get to talk to you."

"Revan –"

He held up a hand to stop her. "I know you said you don't want a romantic relationship. But you said you wanted to be friends, right? Friends don't avoid each other."

She smiled hesitantly. "I thought you were mad at me."

"Not anymore. It was stupid of me, really. I'm sorry for taking the two closest people in your life away from you."

"No, I understand. You wanted to see something new. Have an adventure. There wasn't anything left for you here."

_There was you_. "Hang in there, Bastila. We would be there with you if we could."

For a moment, Revan considered telling her that the Jedi Masters had all but forced him to Coruscant. Forced him away from Kreia and split the three of them up. After all, why else would they have told him he could only choose one of them? But he realized he didn't want to burden her with it; she probably had enough to deal with already.

"I miss you," he said, so quietly he wasn't sure she'd heard him.

"I miss you too." Suddenly she blinked and looked away, as if guilty over what she had said. "I have to go, Revan."

The connection cut before he could say anything else.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe it was too much to ask for any conversation between them to not be awkward. In the reflection of the black console screen, he watched his best friend sleep. If only there was a way to get Bastila to open up, to talk to her without Malak just behind him or at the very least know what she was thinking for once...

Revan got into bed eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. It was a while before he could fall asleep again.

* * *

"Master, how much did Master Dorak tell you about me coming here?"

Revan and Jedi Master Zhar were sitting in the droid room, fiddling with the different parts. The Padawan used this time as a break from his many studies and lessons. Somewhere during these times, Zhar had become not only a mentor, but a friend. And since Malak was becoming more and more distant, he had no one else to ask.

The twi'lek took a long pause before answering. "You were sent here for additional training. To be given the chance to develop skills that other Padawans from Dantooine can only dream of."

"But that isn't the only reason is it?"

Again, a long pause. "The Council must think of what is best for everyone."

"That's exactly what Dorak told me," the Padawan muttered, irritated. "Can't anyone just give me a straight answer?"

"The Council would not have you know."

"It isn't fair," Revan said vehemently. "They can't just send me here without telling me the real reason why."

"Life is rarely fair. The only thing we can do is trust that the right decision has been made. We must trust in their wisdom."

"Do you?" Revan said without thinking.

When the Jedi Master stayed silent, Revan suddenly realized that he may have crossed the line. How could he even question Mast Zhar's faith in the Council?

The Padawan was just about to apologize when Zhar admitted reluctantly, "Yes and no. Had you asked me before I knew you, I would have answered yes without hesitation. But I am beginning to think that yours is a special case and perhaps the truth should not be kept a secret..."

"But why would it have to be a secret?"

Master Zhar's clear eyes pierced through him. "The Council has decided to keep special watch over you, and rightly so. You are one of the brightest pupils I have ever seen in my many years. They – and I – see much potential in you and would hate to see it wasted."

"But why would they separate me from my friends?"

"You must have noticed by now that you have an interesting effect on your peers. They hang on your every word. They see everything you say and everything you do...and they follow."

Revan's mind flashed back to Vrook's face at the end of class. So that was why the Jedi Master had looked unsettled.

Zhar continued, "Master Dorak even compared it to a Force bond, but I am sure that is an exaggeration. To even consider that you could unconsciously form Force bonds with others..."

"A Force bond?"

"It is exactly what it sounds: a bond that manifests itself in the Force when each person in the bond fully understanding the other. That is why such bonds are commonly formed between Master and Padawan, but only after years of training together. Through it, one can often sense or influence the other's emotions and thoughts."

"So it is a form of communication," Revan clarified slowly.

"In a sense, but it can also be more than that. It has been said that when one uses Force powers, the other gains the benefits as well."

The Padawan paused. "Can someone create a Force bond?"

Zhar regarded Revan and again he felt that swift, searching gaze that seemed as though it were seeing into the depths of his mind. "Be mindful of your words, Padawan. I have already shared more than I was told to. Other, more conservative Masters would chastise you just for the thought."

"I was just curious," the young Jedi answered hastily. "I wasn't planning on trying myself."

Why did Jedi everywhere he went insist on admonishing him about the dangers of the Force? He felt as if he were a small child and the Masters were his parents, constantly fussing over him and believing that he couldn't handle figuring things out on his own.

"I will say no more on the matter except this: Force bonds can cause harm as well as good. They can offer unparalleled advantages in battle, but they can also work against those using them. Such bonds are permanent and there have been tales of partners who become enemies, and one uses it to manipulate or kill the other. In many of these cases both end up dead."

All Revan could think about was Bastila, but he met Zhar's gaze steadily. "I understand, Master."

* * *

"Zhar, my old friend."

"Master Dorak," the twi'lek greeted with a grin. "It is good to talk to you."

"Likewise," the holographic image of the historian replied. "How are things on Coruscant?"

"The same as ever. And Dantooine?"

"Quiet, for the most part. But I'm afraid I didn't just call to talk. How is Padawan Revan's training progressing?"

"Revan has taken an interest in Force bonds – although he has shown the same enthusiasm for all other aspects of his studies, so perhaps it is nothing."

"Perhaps." Dorak paused. "I know that it must be hard for you, close friends as you are, to keep asking you how he is doing. As if we are asking you to spy on him. I am sorry the Council is putting you in this position. That _I _helped put you in this position."

"Do not apologize. I am just as concerned with Revan's well-being as the Council. Albeit for different reasons."

The historian's eyebrow arched in surprise. "What reasons?"

"I am not concerned with whether or not he becomes the greatest Jedi the galaxy has ever known. I am concerned about the boy."

"We are not so callous as that," Dorak said defensively. "Of course we care for the boy; we've been with him his whole life up to recently. But you cannot deny that he could save many lives down the road. And the Force holds a great destiny for him – surely you have sensed that as well."

"Yes, but are you sure that we can even train him to that perfect ideal? We cannot treat him like a child, trying to hide everything that could cause harm from him, and we cannot treat him like a man, who would not waver from what is right. Revan is neither and I fear that this edge we have chosen is too narrow to walk."

"You sound like you have doubts."

Zhar sighed heavily. "Today, he asked me the real reason the he was sent here. And I told him, even though the Council explicitly told me not to. It wasn't until he asked about creating Force bonds that I realized perhaps even I am not beyond his mysterious influence."

"I do not think that this was the same as the incident in Vrook's class," Dorak said slowly. "You told him because you care for him. I don't begrudge you for it; sometimes I too wonder if the Council keeps too many needless secrets."

"All the same, perhaps it would be better if someone else took the job of watching him – someone with less of a conflict of interest."

"It's too late for that, Zhar: the Council has already decided that Revan is to be apprenticed to you. You will be his only teacher from now on."

"In that case, I suppose I have no choice in the matter."

"No, I'm afraid not. But I'm sure it won't be a problem. Goodbye, old friend. And good luck."

* * *

Revan scrubbed the tiredness from his eyes, trying to concentrate on the holodesk in front of him. The words on the screen were starting to blur and jumble together. He'd read one line only to realize that he'd already read it three times before.

The Jedi Archives – fairly busy when the Padawan had first entered – had slowly emptied as most of the other students drifted off to bed. But Revan stayed behind, scanning page after page for a deeper explanation of Force bonds. So far, all he came across were vague mentions here and there which only made him more curious and more frustrated.

He wouldn't sleep, not until he found what he was looking for.

He refused to lose hope. There had to be some way to make Bastila see what he felt. Hadn't Zhar said that it could be formed with two people who fully understood each other? Revan had known her for years as a close friend and been in love with her for almost as long. Surely that was enough. There had to be a way to consciously form a Force bond...he only had to find it.

"Do you require assistance, Padawan?"

Revan nearly fell out of his chair. He turned to see a middle-aged woman watching him politely. She was dressed in the traditional robes of a Jedi archivist with her hair contained in a neat bun.

"Um, actually, I'm looking for information on Force bonds...in particular how they're formed. All I can find are mentions of it. Nothing concrete or detailed."

"Then perhaps I can help."

Revan moved aside as she took over the holodesk, her fingers moving quickly across the screen. He watched over her shoulder as she scanned the many databases, just as he had. "I already tried that."

"The Jedi Archives is the most extensive library in the galaxy. However, there are some records only archivists can access, if requested by the student of a Master. Whose assignment is this for?"

"Master Zhar," he lied.

"Very well." Within a few moments, a new window popped onscreen. "I believe this may be what you are looking for. If you need anything else, ask for Madame Atris at the front desk."

"Thank you."

Revan waited until the librarian left before reading the article she had found for him. He felt guilty, studying Force bonds behind Zhar's back and even using his name as a cover. But he needed to know if there could ever be anything between him and Bastila. Revan copied the files onto his personal datapad and withdrew to his room.

The article was written by a Jedi named Ferrin Draal, who had lived around a hundred years prior and studied Force bonds exhaustively. Included in the study were not only Force-sensitives, but normal people who seemed to be able to form bonds without ever being able to control or sense the Force beyond it. Apparently, one did not have to be Force-sensitive (bonds often formed between family members, in particular identical twins), but the strength of the bond increased with the strength of the partners' Force abilities.

Revan supposed that made sense since the Force touched all life, not just that sensitive to it. But if bonds could form naturally with those who weren't even aware of it, surely there was a way to have some kind of control over the process. There was more to the article, but the Padawan could feel sleep creeping slowly but surely over him.

He wondered what Bastila was doing until he fell asleep, datapad in hand.


End file.
